


I've Seen The Streets You're Walking Down

by jonnyhustle



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Asexual Character, Asexual Jamie Benn, Asexuality, Dallas Stars, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3612519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonnyhustle/pseuds/jonnyhustle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You know how you can be heterosexual or homosexual?” He settles on, choosing to keep it basic.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Tyler’s eyes widen in surprise, and his hands freeze for a second before moving back to push his hair away from his face.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You’re not straight,” he says, but it’s not an accusation. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Jamie isn’t offended.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“But, you’re not. You’re not gay,” Tyler says again, and it’s still not an accusation, but it’s also not a question.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“No,” Jamie agrees, “I’m attracted to men, romantically, but I’m not. I don’t want to have sex.”<br/></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Seen The Streets You're Walking Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bohnem990](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bohnem990/gifts).



It takes them a while to talk about it, because Tyler tries to fix things with sex and Jamie firmly believes that if you don’t acknowledge something then it’ll fix itself. None of their solutions work, though, not when sex is the problem and the only way for Jamie to stop Tyler is to use his words, to acknowledge that he doesn’t want it. 

So, this is where it’s at. Tyler has Jamie pinned against the kitchen counter, and he isn’t rushing, and that’s making Jamie panic. It should be turning him on, he thinks, would work for anyone else, but Jamie Benn isn’t anyone else. 

Usually he can push back, say that he’s not ready, and Tyler would nod, would finish himself off in the bathroom and then ask Jamie if he wanted a beer. Jamie would say yes, and it would be okay, until the next time Tyler tried to start something. Sometimes he says that he just isn’t feeling it tonight, and it’s only partially a lie because he’s not. He just probably won’t be feeling it any other night either. 

And Tyler’s been good about not pushing him. He has. He never asks for an explanation and even cuts Jamie off, says, “It’s fine, dude,” like he actually means it. He doesn’t think Jamie has to make excuses, and he’s not interested in hearing them. No means he no, he gets it. He doesn’t push for anything more either when Jamie just reaches for his hand, lets himself be arranged as the little spoon on the sofa while they watch daytime TV.

Tonight, though, Jamie knows none of that is going to work.

In a panic, he says, “We need to talk,” just as Tyler says those four words as well. And it shouldn’t be a big deal, because Jamie knows what he meant when he said those words, and they weren’t heading toward a breakup, but that’s what those four words mean. Even if there’s nothing to really breakup, this was just some sort of friends with benefits thing that mostly stayed platonic, Tyler wouldn’t use those words for any other reason. 

The look on his face must mirror Tyler’s own, wide and vulnerable and hurt, because suddenly they’re both spitting, “I don’t want this to end,” and “Please don’t do this.” 

Tyler laughs, there’s no humour. He looks like he’s going to be sick.

Jamie feels the same way.

They end up on Tyler’s sofa. They’re not touching each other. Jamie’s hand is pressing over the bruise he knows Tyler made on his neck, and Tyler’s just touching everything. Distracting himself, or at least trying to. He’s running his hands through his hair, and then using them to draw his legs beneath him on the couch cushion, and then he’s cracking his knuckles and he can’t sit still and Jamie doesn’t want to prolong this.

He wants to rip the bandaid off.   
There’s so many things he has to say, doesn’t know what to open with first, but he takes the time to think about his sentence before he opens his mouth. He doesn’t want to accidentally blurt two fragmented sentences that say something he’s totally not trying to say. He doesn’t want to do that to Tyler. 

“You know how you can be heterosexual or homosexual?” He settles on, choosing to keep it basic.

Tyler’s eyes widen in surprise, and his hands freeze for a second before moving back to push his hair away from his face.

“You’re not straight,” he says, but it’s not an accusation. 

Jamie isn’t offended.

“But, you’re not. You’re not gay,” Tyler says again, and it’s still not an accusation, but it’s also not a question.

“No,” Jamie agrees, “I’m attracted to men, romantically, but I’m not. I don’t want to have sex.”

“That’s–” Tyler starts, exhaling loudly, not bothering to bite back a laugh.

And Jamie doesn’t know what to do with that. He’s offended, maybe, or worried about Tyler. He doesn’t know if he should reach out to comfort him, or if he should keep his distance. 

They haven’t been together for too long, and this thing had actually only started out as a fuckbuddies arrangement. Jamie had been attracted to Tyler in a way he never had been to anyone else before, and he thought that maybe this was it. Maybe this was the feeling that people felt when they knew they were ready to have sex.

He’d just experienced it ten years late, he figured.

Still, he couldn’t get into it. He liked kissing Tyler. He liked spooning him, and he liked those few times when Tyler was hard and could be convinced to jerk himself off in front of Jamie. He didn’t want anything to change, but he couldn’t pretend that this was a relationship, especially if he was never going to come out, if Tyler wasn’t even clear what it was he was getting himself into.

“I’m asexual,” Jamie concludes, hands firmly clasped in front of him, closing his eyes like he did that first time when he came out to Jordie.

It had been hard to do that. He’d thought he could just pretend that he wanted to focus on his career, that hockey was more important than dating. Then he started being set up with women, and then later on men, when he admitted to not being into girls. It should’ve been fine, he thought, it wasn’t a big deal. He thought he could have gotten away with it, going on dates once or twice a month when his mom set him up with a friend’s daughter or niece, but then the team started getting in on setting him up and he just couldn’t deal with it both at work and at home.

He was sick of looking at Jordie’s dumb expectant expression every time he came home from a date.

“I’m asexual,” he’d said then, blocking Jordie’s view of the TV, and he says it again to Tyler, louder, trying to be proud.

This isn’t anything to be shamed about. His sexuality doesn’t define him.

“I’m asexual and I don’t want to have sex with you,” he nods to himself, just proud to get the words out, and then in a smaller voice, with less pride, “but I like you. Like, I like you a lot.”

Tyler blinks, and then he’s grinning. It’s small but it’s there, and Jamie will take it, even when Tyler teases, “you like me like me.”

Tyler disregards the first part of Jamie’s admission as easily as Jordie had (“Get out of my way, Chubbs, do you know how long it took me to get this far?”) and something inside Jamie loosens.

“So, the sex–“ Jamie starts, feeling awkward and unsure even in the face of Tyler’s attitude, Tyler’s grin.

“Is something you should have said you didn’t want when you agreed to being fuckbuddies,” he lectures, and it’s true.

Jamie knows.

He feels guilty, a bit, for leading Tyler on. He just didn’t know how to ask for more, how to ask for what he wanted. 

Tyler gets off of the sofa, moves across so he’s crouching down in front of Jamie but still stands taller, and presses his lips to Jamie’s forehead.

“I like you like you too, Chubbs,” he admits, stupid Cheshire Cat grin on his dumb face.

Jamie kind of likes it a whole lot.

 

***

There’s a corkboard above Jamie’s desk that he rarely uses. It has a couple of important things stuck to it, just keeping them in his eyeline so they don’t get lost under the papers on his desk. Tyler likes to look at it whenever he’s over, and Jamie knows that, has started adding polaroids and bits and pieces of his life to encourage Tyler to keep looking, to keep paying attention to him. 

Tyler rearranges the pins when he’s bored and sometimes leaves messages for Jamie, and it’s nice. 

It’s also a way of communication between them that’s only been one-sided until now.

It’s been a couple of weeks since Jamie admitted to being ace and Tyler’s been good. He doesn’t try to push Jamie any further when they’re making out, and he stops making sex jokes, and he averts his gaze when a sex scene comes on TV where before he would leer. And that’s fine, but they’re not doing any of the other stuff either. Tyler doesn’t push Jamie when it gets too heated because there’s no chance of that happening. Kisses are strictly closed-mouth, on the lips sometimes but more often than not just onto Jamie’s forehead. 

He’s doesn’t fault the guy for it, either. He understands that Tyler’s trying to be understanding, even if he clearly doesn’t understand completely, but that’s Jamie’s fault too because he still struggles with communication. 

In the end, he decides to just ask for what he wants. It’s a simple solution, and there’s not many ways it could go wrong, he thinks.

“I want you to kiss me properly,” he prints neatly on a post-it note, pinning it to the board when he knows Tyler won’t miss it.

When Tyler comes over in a worn Benn shirsey with the number 14 on the back, Jamie immediately excuses himself, needing an escape and giving Tyler some privacy. It’s nice to see his name stretched out across Tyler’s back, like a statement, and in a way Tyler probably intended it to be. 

It does something to calm Jamie’s nerves when he stands in the doorway to Jordie’s room, just staring at his brother without really asking for any attention.

“What’s wrong?” Jordie asks, looking up from his computer, “Where’s Segs? I thought I heard him come in.”

“In my room,” Jamie answers, still hovering at the doorway like he’s unsure of what to do.

It’s not one of his better moments, if he’s being honest.

Jordie prompts, “And you’re not there because?” 

“I left him a note.”

And Jamie can see the flash of recognition that hits Jordie, because he’s nodding in understanding, knows what Jamie’s like.

They’ve been close for most of their lives. They got even closer when they started playing on the same team again, and besides, Jordie’s not much better at communication. 

They’ve both had to find their own ways in the past when they needed to talk about something but couldn’t outright bring it up.

The shopping list Jordie left out for Jamie, the one that simply read “bread, milk, eggs, pregnancy test,” rings a bell.

“It’ll be okay, Chubbs,” Jordie says, and he sounds confident, only looks even more sure of himself when someone wraps their hands around Jamie’s waist, presses closer.

“Am I interrupting?” Tyler asks, pressing in closer to Jamie.

“Please,” Jordie smirks, “take him.”

Jamie forces a frown at his brother’s encouraging smile, but lets Tyler pull him away and back to his bedroom. Tyler doesn’t take his hands away from Jamie, but he’s not pushing for anything either. There’s no teasing at Jamie’s waistband; there’s nothing that has him feeling as if Tyler completely misunderstood the note.

Jamie doesn’t wait to get his mouth on Tyler. It’s the first time he’s even initiated a kiss between the two of them, but that’s just because he knows that Tyler gets what this is. Tyler knows that this isn’t foreplay, and Jamie doesn’t have to worry about telling Tyler to stop.

They move toward the bed, and Jamie looks across the bedroom, notices from the lack of fluorescent pink that the note has been unpinned. Jamie wonders why Tyler would want with it. If he kept it.

He doesn’t ask.

“I’ve missed this,” Jamie says, coming up for air a couple of minutes later.

They’re spread out on Jamie’s bed now with Jamie effectively pinning Tyler beneath him. He can feel that Tyler’s hard, so Jamie shifts them around, slots his thigh between Tyler’s legs to give him something to rub off against.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler says, embarrassed, shifting his hips away from Jamie.

“You can’t help it,” Jamie shrugs, ducking in to chase Tyler’s blush with a kiss, “and I like it.”

Tyler groans, taking the permission for what it is.

***

It’s not the last time they use the corkboard for communication either. Tyler seems to have worked out that even if they should be using their words, it can be intimidating to verbalise them, especially when you’re still fumbling your way around a new relationship. 

Jamie wakes up one morning alone, and he doesn’t exactly panic but there is that brief moment where all he can think is that Tyler’s come to his senses. 

It’s another pink note, and it catches his eye from across the bedroom. He forces himself out of bed, if only to check it out because he knows that it wasn’t there the night before, when Tyler was still in bed with him.

“I like it when you tell me what to do,” the note says, and then on another, “It reminds me that I’m not pressuring you. That this is what you want.”

Jamie feels guilty sometimes, thinks that he’s holding Tyler back. 

They’re professional athletes and they’re young, and Tyler should be out hooking up at clubs or wherever else people go to for that sort of thing. And if Tyler’s worried about pressuring Jamie into sex, then Jamie has the same worries, thinks that he’s pressuring Tyler into a relationship without even putting out. 

They’ve done a few things, though, and Tyler seems to enjoy them, doesn’t ever look as if he’s getting a raw deal. Sometimes Jamie watches when Tyler jerks off, or he’ll spoon Tyler from behind and listen to the noises he makes, encourages him to only be louder. 

He isn’t repulsed by sex, but even when he jerks himself off he feels wrong. Dirty. 

He tried to explain it to Tyler one night, and had to stop Tyler in the middle of his, “There is nothing wrong with masturbation, it’s only natural,” rant to admit that yes, he knew that, he agreed even, but it just didn’t feel right for him. 

It’s a mechanical process, like scratching an itch, and Tyler still hadn’t understood it but he’d been accepting like always, determined to do better. To make Jamie comfortable. 

He gives Jamie his space when he feels Jamie get hard beneath him, occupies himself while Jamie disappears into the bathroom to take care of business. 

Jamie keeps Tyler’s bottom note on the corkboard but unpins the first one, the one that reads, “I like it when you tell me what to do.” 

He replaces it with his own, “I like it when you tell me what you want, what you need.” 

And they’re getting better at communication, at being _them_. 

Jamie doesn’t like sex, but he likes Tyler, and he likes instructing Tyler on how to pleasure himself, feels as if he can at least be a part of the process. 

***

Tyler’s in the bathroom taking a cold shower. 

Jamie’s had a long week, had actually flinched away when Tyler boxed him in, kissed him dirty. 

Tyler hadn’t immediately shut down, but it was a close thing. It was clear that he wanted to escape, just walk out of his own apartment and come back after Jamie had left, only they both knew that Jamie wasn’t going to give him that option. He’d wait him out, spend the night, move in if he had to.

“I’m sorry,” they’d both said at the same time, and Tyler looked like a kicked puppy and Jamie looked frustrated and that just wasn’t good for anyone.

“I’ll order some food if you want to take a shower?” Jamie suggested, keeping his mouth closed as he pressed a kiss to Tyler’s lips, “We can watch a movie. I don’t think. I’m not really in the mood for anything else.”

He was quiet and his eyes were downcast, ashamed, waiting for Tyler to say something. Tyler didn’t fight it, just nodded and said, “That sounds nice,” and Jamie’s heart just swelled so much. 

He wasn’t easy to love, he knew.

So, Tyler’s in the bathroom taking a cold shower, and there’s no denying what he’s up to in there when the delivery man rings the doorbell. 

That’s not the point though. 

The point is that when Jamie grabs Tyler’s wallet, left out on the coffee table for Jamie to use to pay for dinner, he pulls out more than just cash. 

A little pink slip of paper falls out with the money, and Jamie just grabs it, holds it tightly in his hand as he pays the man and gets his food. 

He spreads the takeout on the table, dishing what he knows Tyler wants onto one plate, and then dishing his own out onto another. He spreads himself against the sofa, more relaxed than he was just a couple of minutes before, knows that Tyler probably will be too when he comes out of the shower. 

“I love you,” he says, when Tyler comes out in that same Benn shirsey, sweatpants riding low on his waist. 

It’s the first time he’s said it aloud, and Tyler freezes, but Jamie doesn’t regret it. Doesn’t want to take the words back. 

Especially not when Tyler returns them.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr is here](http://toestoewstazer.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Title is taken from Twenty One Pilot's [Fairly Local](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDI9inno86U), and it's amazing so you should check it out if you haven't already.
> 
> Let me know what you think :)


End file.
